An Arrow Through the Heart
by eClair23
Summary: "The only thing they both remembered was falling in love." Rated T for the Red Room. Nothing objectionable besides sterilization.
1. Chapter 1

"Why can't things be like they were in Budapest, Tasha?" Clint's eyes drilled into hers searchingly.

* * *

Budapest

* * *

They had been partnered on missions for six months. They were on a mission to take down a huge terrorist group centralized in Budapest. They rented adjoining hotel rooms for the night. They had arrived very late, so they crashed and were asleep in a matter of seconds.

* * *

Natasha woke up screaming. Her vision was red. She jolted upright, raking her fingers furiously through her hair. She shakily got to her feet and made her way out to the balcony for some fresh air. She ran directly into Clint.

"What are you doing out here, Barton?!" She demanded, crossing her arms defensively.

"Couldn't sleep."

"And why were you coming into my room?"

"I heard you screaming and figured I'd come check on you. You all right?"

"Yeah," she stated curtly and turned to leave.

"No, you're not." He grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"Drop it, Barton." She sounded deadly.

He kept going. "Natasha, please."

* * *

"I had a nightmare. You happy now?!" She snapped at him. She refused to turn around or look him in the eyes, acting like a hunted animal.

"You want to talk about it?"

She turned her back to him and spoke quietly, "I've killed so many people, Clint. More than I can count. I have so much blood on my hands, Clint. I can't get it off."

She finally turned towards him, keeping her arms crossed tightly over her chest for defense. Her emerald eyes pleaded with him desperately in the night. They begged for freedom, for forgiveness.

His hand found hers and he squeezed comfortingly.

"I'm sorry, Tasha."

She decided to let the nickname slide, just this once. He wiped a single solitary tear from her face. She never cried. He had never seen her this upset before, not to the point where she would openly show her emotions.

"Maybe you should take some sleeping pills or something," he suggested.

"I've tried those. Nothing helps. At this point, it's easier to just stay awake."

He rubbed circles on her back soothingly. "Maybe I could try to help?"

He leaned down, closing the space between them so he could kiss her. His fingers played gently with her hair as her hands clasped at the back of his neck. She pulled away and finally made eye contact. She looked a little less like a cornered animal now.

"I trust you."

He carefully took her hand and led her back to her room. She cautiously climbed back into bed and he drew up a chair next to her.

He brushed her hair out of her face and began to sing an old Russian lullaby he'd picked up from listening to her sing herself to sleep at night: "Иди спать, мой дорогой. Отдых голову мне на плечо и быть в безопасности. Спи, моя красивая один. Я останусь рядом с тобой." Literally, it meant, "Go to sleep, my darling. Rest your head against my shoulder and be safe. Sleep, my beautiful one. I will stay beside you."

Clint had a surprisingly nice voice, she noticed.

"That's my favorite lullaby. My mother used to sing me to sleep with it every night," she mumbled groggily.

"Go to sleep, Tasha. You're safe."

Her breathing slowed. He kissed her forehead tenderly and left the room, not seeing the smile that graced her face.

The next morning, they had some down time, so they set out to "scope out their surroundings", as Clint put it. The city was beautiful and snowy at this time of year. The buildings towered majestically over them. They explored the museums and strolled through the parks hand in hand "to maintain a tangible cover story" as Natasha put it, although they both knew that wasn't true. They both secretly enjoyed the feeling of their hands intertwined. On their way back to the hotel to prepare for the day's objective, Clint steered Natasha towards a store.

"Why are we in a jewelry store, Barton?" She interrogated him.

"I had something special made for you," he stated, casually strolling up to the counter and stating his name. The manager handed him a tiny box. He cracked it open and grinned.

"Turn around."

"No way, Barton. That never ends well in my line of work."

"Please. You trust me, right?"

She grumbled something that sounded like "fine".

His fingers lightly ghosted the back of her neck as he clasped the chain around her neck. She shivered.

"Are you cold?"

"Of course not. I'm Russian. I just...this is the first time I can remember someone doing something this nice for me, that's all."

She fingered the dainty necklace, admiring the way it caught the light.

"An arrow?"

"'Cuz I'm Hawkeye."

She rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot."

"It's kind of a thank you for letting me in. And to remind you that emotions aren't always a weakness, Tasha." He grinned.

"Thank you, Clint."

She hugged him tightly. He kissed her cheek as they strolled nonchalantly back to the hotel hand in hand.

They collapsed into chairs on the porch in the early hours of the morning battered and bruised from the final stage of their mission. She rested her head on his shoulder as they quietly watched the sun rise. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close.

His fingers brushed her shoulder and she winced involuntarily.

"Tasha?"

"It's nothing."

"Did something happen you're not telling me about?"

"Drop it, Barton."

He ignored her. He gently pushed the fabric off of her shoulder and took in the sight of a pretty nasty wound. He silently went inside and grabbed the first aid kit they always carried. Clint bandaged her shoulder in absolute silence.

He spoke quietly. "Why didn't you tell me, Nat?"

"Didn't want you to worry..." She mumbled.

"I don't mind worrying about you." He tucked her hair behind her ear.

A watery smile crossed her face.

"I... I need to tell you something. About my past, Clint."

"Okay."

"When I was six, I was taken by the Red Room. I don't know what happened to my parents. I was brainwashed and trained to be the most ruthless assassin on the planet. The awful thing is that I can't remember who I was before. And I don't even know who I am now." She burst out sobbing, something he never thought he would ever witness.

He took her into his muscular arms and held her close.

"I know who you are. You're Natasha Romanoff."

"That's just a name, Clint. It doesn't mean anything." She hung her head.

"Maybe not to you, but to me, that name means everything."

She shakily let him wipe her tears with his sleeve.

"Thank you."

He kissed her forehead and they both finally went to bed. For the first time in a very long time, they both slept soundly.

"Because I had feelings in Budapest, Clint, and I can't have feelings. It's too dangerous, especially in our line of work." She fiddled with her necklace and refused to look at him.

"Please, Nat. We can't just pretend our feelings don't exist. Emotions aren't a weakness, remember?"

She nodded.

"Remember the necklace, Tasha."

Then he left.


	2. Chapter 2

"Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" Loki pried.

"Love is for children," she replied cooly. The Red Room had instilled that message in her.

He continued to try to break her, but she kept her mask firmly in place until she escaped to her room, where she broke down and cried until they called her for a meeting with the others. Then she wiped her eyes, fixed her makeup, and forced a smile onto her face.

They fought silently.

Suddenly he had a knife at her throat. She could not shake the memory of his arrow aimed at her head so long ago. He had made a different call back then, but Loki would not.

He yanked a fistful of her flaming red hair, the same hair he always played with ever so gently to calm her down. It broke her heart when he looked up at her and whispered "Tasha" in that helpless tone. Then she saw his eyes: icy blue, not the warm, familiar cloudy grey. Loki was using him against her. So much for emotions not being a weakness. She was furious now, furious at Loki for using the only thing she had ever had against her, twisting and breaking him to get to her. Her anger exploded and her fist connected with his face. Hard.

As she waited for the medics to come get him, one solitary tear wetted the dark fabric of her catsuit, unnoticeable amid the black fabric. No one would ever know.

"Do you know what it feels like to be unmade?" He was on the verge of tears and so very vulnerable.

"You know I do," she tried to reassure him.

"How many agents did I-"

"Don't." She cut him off protectively. If he gave into this he would fall apart.

"Now you sound like you." She could not help grinning at the relief of having him back.

"But you don't." Of course he would notice.

Her smile vanished and she stared intently at the floor.

"Natasha." He spoke her name so delicately, as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

"I've been compromised," she stated sullenly.

He pulled her in. "But we haven't," he whispered in her ear.

"You and I remember Budapest very differently."

Of course they did.

Clint remembered seeing her find herself, and watching her grow into who she really was. He remembered holding her sob-wracked body comfortingly so many times.

Natasha remembered him singing her to sleep in Russian. She remembered feeling safe. She remembered the snow-covered buildings and the tiny jewelry store on the corner.

The only thing they both remembered was falling in love.


	3. Chapter 3

Natasha Romanoff had lost a lot in her life, but nothing compared to the thing she had had stolen from her long ago: a choice. As the final "rite of passage", the Red Room had sterilized her. They took away her power to choose to have a family. She had never shed a tear about it, though. No one showed emotion in the Red Room, and if someone did, they conveniently disappeared.

She remembered waking up after the procedure, scared, confused, and discombobulated. They had drugged her in the middle of the night and raced her down a bright hallway on a stretcher, and the next thing she knew, she was waking up in an unnaturally bright and sterile room. She panicked, trying to break out of the bonds that held her down on the bed. She hated being restrained. The Red Room had always taught her that being restrained was a weakness.

A surgeon dressed in all black silently entered the room.

"Natalia Romanova?"

She nodded.

"Miss Romanova, I am pleased to inform you that you have passed your final test: sterilization. Congratulations. You are free to go."

Her restraints clapped open. She got up, packed her bags, headed into the world, changed her name, and refused to shed a single tear about it.

Natasha woke up sobbing. Her face was soaked. She buried her face in the pillow and released a scream filled to the brim with the anger and resentment she had been shouldering for so long.

The lamp switched on and she felt a gentle hand on her sweaty shoulder.

"Tasha," he said softly.

"What?" She mumbled tearily.

"You okay?" He sat down on the bed.

"What do you think, Barton?" She snapped halfheartedly.

"I'm going to take that as a 'no', then. Bad dream," he stated, knowing exactly why she would be this upset.

She nodded.

He brushed the sweaty, tangled hair out of her face. "Red Room?"

"Yeah."

"You don't have to talk about-"

She cut him off. "No, you should know. They drugged me, middle of the night. I was terrified. Next thing I knew I was waking up, scared and confused and then some doctor came in and told me I..." Her voice broke and she put her head in her hands, frustrated.

He rubbed her back gently. "You're okay," he assured her.

Her head shot up. "No, I'm not! Can't you see?! They sterilized me. I can't have kids. They took away any choice I had."

Clint sat there, shocked. "They...did this to you?!"

She nodded grimly.

"They hurt you like this?!" He was angry now.

She nodded sullenly.

"I'm going to fix this. I'm going to make things right. I don't care what Fury says."

"Clint, please. Don't hurt anyone. We've got enough blood on our hands already. I've come to terms with it. You should too."

"You shouldn't have had to come to terms with anything, Tasha. This is wrong." He took her hands in his. "I swear, Tasha, we will find a way to fix this. Whatever it takes."

One tear traced its way down her red, tearstained face. "Thank you."


	4. Chapter 4

He cried seeing her walk down the aisle. Her dress was simple, form-fitting, and elegant. Her blazing red hair had been expertly coerced into a complicated knot on the back of her head. Her eyes had never sparkled so much. She allowed a tiny smile to cross her face as she declared, "I do."

Clint dipped her and kissed her.

They danced to Ed Sheeran's "Thinking Out Loud" as he sang the words quietly in her ear.

The other Avengers had never seen them so happy. It brought tears to Steve's eyes.

Tony spent the evening proudly informing everyone that he had known they were a thing all along. Then it came time for the toasts. Steve, very proper, politely made a toast to health and prosperity. Thor pronounced an ancient Asgardian blessing on them. Bruce wished them joy. Then Tony stood up and declared, "I didn't even know they were dating."


	5. Chapter 5

"Tasha! I have great news!" Clint, her husband of six months, bounded into their room, where she had been calmly reading a mystery novel.

She put her book down reluctantly and sighed. "Yes?"

"You'll never believe this, but I spoke to the head doctor at S.H.I.E.L.D. today, and there's a surgery that might work, Tasha, and he's willing to try!"

She stood, shocked. "Seriously, Clint?"

"Yes! Tasha, we could have a family!" He was grinning from ear to ear and she was on the verge of tears.

She hugged him, unable to speak. He held her tight as his tears soaked the back of her shirt. She cried silently with him. "Thank you, Clint."

"I love you."

"We'll do it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Are you sure? That seems pretty fast..."

"I don't want to waste any more time. Can they fit me in tomorrow?"

"I'll call. Thank you, Nat."

He had told her before she went under that he would love her just the same even if the surgery did not work. Then he had held her hand and told her that he loved her over and over again until she went under.

Clint was there when she woke up, holding her hand tightly and praying that the surgery had gone well. The doctor assured him that she would be fine. So Natasha awoke to him twirling her hair between his fingers.

"Clint?"

"Hey there, Nat. How're you feeling, beautiful?"

"Awful. My head is throbbing and I swear I can count the stitches in my stomach just from the feel of things."

He tenderly brushed the hair out of her face. "Anything I can do to?"

"No. I've been through worse. This is nothing compared to that one time in Beijing..."

"Well, I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm tough. I'll pull through."

"That's my girl." He gently kissed her forehead.

"Clint?" Natasha sounded scared.

He rushed to her side, subconsciously checking her for injuries. "What happened? Are you okay?"

She shakily held up a pregnancy test. "It's positive."

His mouth dropped open. "Tasha, this is amazing!"

She nodded, smiling.

"Thank you, Clint. For everything."

"I love you."

He held her close as they both cried silent and happy tears. He shook with sobs as she clung tightly to him.

Natasha held their tiny baby girl close to her heart as a single tear traced its way delicately down her face.

"Valentina Rose Barton, welcome to the world!" She beamed down at their beautiful daughter.

Clint made faces and cooed affectionately at the baby.

"It's perfect, Tasha. She's beautiful." Clint grinned.

"She's amazing," Natasha declared.

Valentina was their amazing, beautiful miracle.

"I love you, Clint."


End file.
